


Scar Tissue

by idyll



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-26
Updated: 2005-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:29:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idyll/pseuds/idyll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"No, let's keep doing the other thing. I like that."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Scar Tissue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vylit](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Vylit).



> Set directly post-Orpheus.

When Gunn finds Faith she's sitting in the room she spent her coma hours in. She's got her fists wrapped around chunks of her own hair and she ain't breathing all that steady. Gunn just watches her, and in his head he's thinking back to the women he used to know. Took a certain kind of person to do the work he did with his crew, and it took an even more specific kind of woman.

And he wonders why it is that he's been gravitating towards the opposite since he joined up with Angel. Not that Fred isn't strong, or even Gwen. It's just that they're a whole lot softer than he's ever had before. They're soft, curved edges, rather than, say, Faith's sharp and jagged ones that could slice through steel.

There's some vague connection he's about to make, one between Fred and what he always wanted Alonna to get a chance to be, but he doesn't fully make it because Faith lifts her head and stares at him with eyes gone a little broken in the center.

"What's up, Gunn?" She says his name like she did when she first got to the Hyperion--enunciated twang and emphasis on the _Guh_ sound. That's different all around from any of the sharp- or soft-edged women, and Gunn's pretty sure that Faith doesn't fit right into either category. Like, maybe she's one of those rhombus things. She's got four straight sides but she's not as simple as a rectangle or a square.

"Willow was looking for you," Gunn tells Faith. "Something about needing you to go back to Sunnydale with her."

"Sunnydale," Faith repeats flatly and lowers her eyes.

Gunn tilts his head to the side. "Don't sound so thrilled, now. Think you need to take it easy after your big drugged out trip into Angel's head."

"Fuck you very much," Faith says, but there isn't any heat to the words, just a husky tiredness.

"Sorry." Gunn holds his hands up to back up the apology. "Just trying to get something outta you. It's not like I know you, or anything, but I can't imagine this--" He gestures at her slumped form. "--is what you're always like."

"Yeah, well, it didn't used to be. Think it might be now."

Gunn shakes his head, snorts, rolls his eyes and cuts a hand through the air. He thinks that much reinforcement is needed for how not right she is. "Bullshit. Seen you when you first got here. You were _on_." Faith doesn't even blink, much less give him anything, so Gunn shrugs. "Anyway, she said something about leaving after you've both recharged in a couple of hours or so."

"Yeah, right. Got it. Why don't you go somewhere else and leave me to...recharge."

Three steps down the hallway and Gunn turns on his heel and ducks his head around the doorjamb. "How about you come with me to recharge. Think I got just the thing you need."

Faith raises her brows. "You think so, do you?" she asks cynically, but there's something interested in her eyes and Gunn knows she'll come along with him.

*

"I'm not--dressed for this."

Gunn grins at Faith. Most white girls would have taken one look at the sea of bodies in the club and said something about not being the right _color_ for this, seeing as how it's a hip hop club on the outskirts of South Central and there's maybe one other white person in the entire place. It's a good sign that Faith's more concerned about her clothes, even if that's a stupid concern. Gunn looks her up and down appreciatively. "You're dressed for any damn thing you want, and you damn well know it."

Faith tugs at the waistband of her jeans with one hand and pushes her hair out of her eyes with the other. She shrugs awkwardly. "Yeah, okay. Let's do this."

Over the years, Gunn's known more than his fair share of people who've spent chunks of time in jail. He knows what they go through when they get out, how things that used to be easy and commonplace become frightening and alien instead. Gunn's seen it break people down until they're just, like, shells of who they used to be. And maybe he would've been fine with letting Faith go off to Sunnydale without trying to help her out, but Faith did a good turn by them. Put herself on the line in a few ways and got Angel back for them. Gunn figures he owes her something in return for that, and this is what he can do for her in the short time they've got until she leaves.

They dance together to start with and Faith's hesitant and jerky for the first few songs. But then she forgets that she's this murderous bitch who just busted herself out of jail, and then all she is is a body moving to the beat. She gets into the groove and Gunn finds out that she's got moves that put some of the best regulars in the club to shame. Which he kinda figured on, to be honest. Just something about the way she moves, the way she talks, and that Slayer limberness.

Her killer dancing earns her some nasty looks at first, then some respect that gets her danced away from Gunn and into a dueling-banjos dance thing. Everyone does the moves the previous person did, tacks their own addition on at the end, and waits for the next person to do their thing. After an hour, five dancers, and something like two-dozen moves, the participants grin at each other and kick it in synch, from start to finish, and they bring the house down.

Faith stalks over to Gunn, all pleased predator with silky smooth moves, and Gunn punches her on the shoulder. "Damn, girl. Earned you some street cred didn't you?"

"Already had street cred," Faith laughs. "South Boston, man. Might not be South Central, but street is street. It's all in how you walk."

Gunn nods and smiles smugly down at her. "Yeah. It is."

Faith's eyes narrow and she reaches out, lightning fast, to whap Gunn in the stomach. He staggers back several feet and only just keeps his feet under him. "You fuck," Faith grouses. "You set me up."

"Told you I knew what you needed. Not like I was trying to hide it, and I didn't even say I told you so, either. And what do I get for all my trouble, hm? Busted ribs, that's what. Ain't fair, I tell you."

"You're breaking my heart, man. Really. Into tiny little pieces. Fuck, I could really go for a drink."

Gunn starts for the bar area of the club and nods at Faith to follow him. "I checked in with Willow," he calls out above the music. "She needs two more hours. You could get away with having a few drinks."

"Just need one," Faith says easily. "And you're gonna have one with me, _Gu_nn."

Call him crazy, but Gunn's got a bad feeling about this. He takes out his cell phone and puts a cab service on speed dial. Just in case. Faith leans over the bar and whispers in the bartender's ear just as Gunn spies an open spot at the counter along the mirrored side wall and moves to claim it before it's gone. He tries to see what's getting mixed for him and Faith, but the bartender's got his back to Gunn, so he just gives up.

Turns out he's given Faith far too little credit.

"What the hell were you expecting?" she asks when she brings over the pitcher of beer and Gunn gapes at it. "I've got an apocalypse on the agenda a few hours from now. I can't show up drunk or hung over. One large hops beverage, that's it for me."

"Well, damn," Gunn drawls, somewhat disappointed that he and Faith aren't about to get utterly shitfaced. "Tell you what. You come back 'round this way after you save the world and we'll party for real."

"Sounds like a plan," Faith says and holds up her plastic cup, filled with beer from the pitcher, and tilts it in Gunn's direction in a toast. She starts to bring it to her lips, then pauses, her brow furrowing.

"What?" Gunn asks.

"Can't decide if I want to chug it down or take it slow and appreciate my first bit of alcohol in a few years."

Gunn fills his own cup, and it's damn large, actually. More like two drinks in one. "Chug it," he says confidently. "Gotta jump right in, then you can float around and appreciate."

"You realize that makes no sense. Like, you didn't even actually say anything at all."

"Hush, grasshopper. Just chug and learn."

Faith flashes her middle finger at him, then smoothes her brow out and downs the entire cup in two large gulps.

"Oh, fuck yeah," she sighs after she swallows, and almost immediately she's peering at the empty cup in disappointment. Gunn holds his out and she snatches it, brings it to her mouth, and takes a small sip before handing it back. She doesn't swallow right away, just holds it in her mouth while she closes her eyes and smiles just the tiniest bit. "You are the _shit_, Gunn; don't let nobody tell you different," she announces when she's done appreciating and swallowing.

Gunn would have a smart ass answer for her, but he's a little distracted by the way she's pulling at the low collar of her shirt to get some air flow under it. Because, you know, the girl's stacked and he's a guy, and he can appreciate the view.

"Careful there," Faith warns. "Your eyes are gonna fall out of your head if you keep staring. Well, actually--fall out, get pulled out." She holds out a hand, palm up, and rolls it side to side. "Fellatio, fell_ah_tio."

Gunn chokes on beer and Faith pounds him on the back, just outright laughing at him. "It's not nice to threaten and tease a man in the same breath," he says weakly, blinking away coughing induced tears. "Leads to all sorts of fear and confusion. And more fear."

Faith smiles at him, slow and easy. "Yeah? Okay, I can see that. So how about I take the threat off the table."

"Teasing ain't much better on its own, but there's less fear, so I'll take that any day."

"See, here's the thing," Faith says. "Since I've been out of the Big House I've got my fight on, had several moments of clarity, and danced my ass off. I figure all that's left is some cock, and, well..." She glances at his crotch. "You qualify. More than, if I'm as right as I usually am about things like this."

"That's flattering," Gunn drawls, rolling his eyes and bringing a hand up to clutch at his chest. "Keep this up and my ego will be raging out of control." Faith opens her mouth but Gunn continues on. "And, thanks, but no. Not really interested in being a dildo that just so happens to be connected to a body. Ain't my thing."

"What is your thing?"

"Don't mind sex for sex's sake, if that's what you're asking," he tells her after a moment. "But it can't not be about the person, you know? I won't do it to someone and I damn well won't let someone do it to me."

Faith nods, and it seems absent, but Gunn thinks it might be thoughtful. He can't really tell for sure, though. "Can we head out?" she says finally. "I got what I needed here. Some fresh air is next on my list."

"You're in the wrong city for that one," Gunn says, then drains the rest of his beer and starts for the exit.

*

They're driving through some suburb or another fifteen minutes later, just because Faith didn't want to walk around, and wasn't ready to go back to the Hyperion yet. The windows in Gunn's truck are down and Faith is letting the wind whip her hair across her face. Gunn's singing along with a song on the radio, nodding his head to the beat. They haven't really said anything since they started driving around. Hasn't been much around to start conversation around, and Faith apparently needs some time in her head, even though she had plenty of time in Angel's already. Or maybe that's _why_ she needs the time in her own head.

"How can you have it both ways?" she asks abruptly.

"Whahuh?"

"What you said before. How can it just be sex and also about the person?"

Gunn cuts a glance in her direction and sees her staring blankly at him. "It's about respect, the way I look at it. Two people can need something, and maybe they can get that something from each other. But they can get that same thing from their own hand or some nifty piece of molded plastic. If a person's reaching out to another person to get it? They need to recognize that person's there. Ain't fair otherwise."

"Oh."

"Don't go acting like you don't know what I'm talking about, Faith," Gunn says evenly. "Even if you didn't used to know, you do now. No way you can sit there and tell me there wasn't someone on the inside that you were messing with, and who got to be a little bit more than just some fingers to ride. Not saying it was true love, or even anything all that big. But just something more."

"All right," Faith says quietly. "But that was different."

"Why, because it was another girl and not a guy? I hate to break it to you, but it's no different. Person's a person."

"No, because things are just different inside. Nothing's like it is out here. Or, like, some things are like they are out here, but I don't know which ones. Because that never used to happen to me, the more thing."

"Try it out, see if it transfers over," Gunn suggests. "Seemed to be a good way of figuring shit out for the people I've known."

"Might just do that. Let's go back, now."

*

Faith falls asleep on the way back to the Hyperion, and she doesn't wake up enough to walk back into the hotel on her own two feet, so Gunn picks her up in his arms. After asking her if it's okay, first, because no way is he going to step on Miss Independent's toes. Not with Slayer strength on her side. The sleepy nod is all the permission he needs, and he takes her in the back way so that no one freaks out and thinks she's been hurt again. After he settles her on the same bed from earlier, he finds Willow down in the lobby.

"About an hour and a half and I'll be ready," Willow says. "Still recharging. Is Faith set?"

"She's napping. Should be ready to go when you are."

Angel looks up. "Can you sit up there with her?" he asks. "I don't want her to be alone and everyone's--"

"Yeah, sure," Gunn agrees. "No sweat."

Half an hour after Gunn goes upstairs and parks his ass in a chair in Faith's room, she wakes up. Sudden and startled and ready to go. Gunn holds out his hands. "Easy there. Just me."

"Shit," she says tiredly and drags a hand down her face. "I'm beat, but my body doesn't want to sleep."

"I hear ya."

"You do," Faith says, blinking slowly, and Gunn isn't sure what she means. Especially when she adds, "And I hear ya, too."

She says it like it's supposed to mean something to him. But it doesn't. At least not until she moves from the bed and crosses the few feet to where he's sitting. She nudges his thighs apart with her knees and stands between them, then looks down at Gunn with eyes gone tinted with uncertainty. Her hands go to the belt loops of her jeans, twisting the strips of denim around her index fingers. Gunn thinks she might have shuffled her feet if there was room between his legs to do so.

"Hey, what's this?" he asks quietly.

"Just...me trying something out. Seeing if it transfers over. With someone who's way cool and damn fine looking and who I respect and had fun with tonight. That's all. No big."

Gunn smiles and reaches up to take her hands and unwrap her fingers from the loops that are cutting off circulation in her fingers and turning them white. He holds them only a moment after freeing her. "Oh, yeah? Sad part of this is, there really isn't time."

"I'm trying something else out, too, and there's time for that," she tells him.

"Big night for Little Miss Faith," Gunn says with a whistle. "Now I'm flattered for real."

"Shut up and come over here."

She drags him to the bed and shoves him down. He lands with his arms flung out to the side, and Faith drops next to him, under the curve of his right arm. She half lays on his chest, bends her legs at the knee so that her feet are sticking up towards the ceiling, and props her head on her hand.

Gunn looks up at her and arches a brow. "Cuddling?"

"Please, I'm not that confused and fucked in the head that I'm going all platonic," she snorts.

"Make out session?" Gunn guesses after considering their position.

"Give the boy a prize."

"Yes, please," he agrees readily and reaches up with his free hand to cup her cheek. "You ever done this before without planning on going further?"

"Not even once," she says uneasily. "Inside or outside."

"Well, that's okay, because I've got some practice in this."

"Yeah? Guess you can teach me the ropes."

Gunn urges her head down by way of the hand on her cheek, brings her lips to his, and when she opens her mouth and brings her tongue out right away, he nudges her back and shake his head. "Can't skip the good part. Mouth closed for now."

"Closed. Okay, I can do that."

And she does, keeps her lips together as Gunn touches his to them, and she's tense and tight next to him at first, until she gets into the groove and then she's just a body moving to the rhythm Gunn's setting with the pressure of his lips. And they go on like that for a bit, until she smiles against his mouth, just a small turning up of the corners of her lips, and Gunn slides his tongue out and licks.

Faith pulls back slightly and shakes her head. "No, let's keep doing the other thing. I like that."

"Okay," Gunn says, and they're both smiling when he kisses her again.

*

They do finally kiss for real, make out for real, and Gunn gets to second base. He still remembers his teenage years well enough to get a happy thrill about having groped Faith's breasts through her shirt. But when they say goodbye before she leaves for Sunnydale, Faith gives Gunn a small smile that no one else sees, and touches her fingers to her lips, and Gunn's happier about everything they didn't do.

.End


End file.
